**_Holly Greyhead (Maiden Name: Holloway)_**

Rayburn sits in my lap, the tiny toddler chewing on a peice of my sleeve sleepily. I stroke his hair as I stare out into the window. My eyes are met with the mute twinkling of stars and the never-ending darkness of the night sky. The breeze is cool, refreshing against the tight fit I have to wear in front of the powerful aristocrats of this city.

“Ma?”

I look down, a pair of grey eyes, the same as my husband’s, looks back up at me. Rayburn’s golden curls flop around his face; yellow and shining, just like the stars.

I tuck my son closer to me. It would only be a matter of time before time itself ran out. I lean down to kiss his cheek gently, my lips meeting with jutting bone. He is too thin now, as a two-year old. He will have gain some pounds or else people will become suspicious.

“My sweet Lanvard,” I stand, holding Rayburn in one arm and closing the window sill with the other, “It’s time for you to go to sleep.”

Rayburn turns red. “No.” I chuckle as he says some incoherent nonsense then says no again, all the while making my way towards his crib.

I place him down gently, not surprised when he starts to thrash. “If you go to sleep,” I say, tucking him in despite his attempts to stop me, “I’ll give you pudding and pie in the morning.”

“Pud? Pie?”

I laugh. “Yes, pudding _and_ pie. You like them, don’t you?”

Rayburn settles down, tugging the cover to his chin. “Night night.” He closes his eyes.

I pause. “Rayburn.”

When he opens his eyes again they are curious at the expression on my face. He lifts his arms to me. “Ma.”

I place my hand on his small chest, right over his heart. It’s beating, unlike mine, and that’s good. He can stay hidden. “Guard this with your life, understand?”

I can tell that he doesn’t. Who thinks a toddler, no matter what breed, can understand the words of a near insane adult? I shake my head, kissing Rayburn’s forehead before I leave, a turn the gaslights off in his room. Rayburn whimpers for a moment—I stand there as he does so, wary—but he quiets after a moment, the whimpers replaced with loud snoring.

I make my way to the bedroom I share with Percy. He wouldn’t be here yet; late night work and such of the sort.

That’s good. I’ll have time for a midnight stroll.

I take my clothes off until I’m bare, then open the window up to my room. My false skin sheds and my body thins, becoming more lithe, more strong, more _me_. I launch myself into the midnight sky, my true skin changing the outer layer to blend in with my surroundings.

The wind is sharp against my even sharper features. I smile, teeth glinting in the moonlight. It has been many long months since the last time I could be free. Those months caring for Rayburn in case he changed suddenly were stressful, even for a Higer faerie such as I.

I stop suddenly, standing up to my full height as my skin prickles. “Hello, Fleece, how are you sister?”

She comes out from the forest, still in her tight human form. A young lady, older than me of course, with her skin pale and her brown hair pulled back into a bun. “I don’t go by that name now. It’s Florence.”

I roll my eyes. “You really do want to be a human, don’t you? I just don’t understand.”

“And you never will,” she stops in front of me, green eyes stern as she looks up to meet my own black eyes, “but that’s not what I’m here for.”

I tilt my head. “Then what are you here for…Florence.”

“I’m here to talk about Lanvard…well, Rayburn.

“Where is he going to go when you _die_?”